


Speechless

by Autistic_Erin



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Autism, Autistic Doctor, Autistic Eleven, Autistic Eleventh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 07:48:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6648637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autistic_Erin/pseuds/Autistic_Erin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor (Eleventh) loses speech while wandering the TARDIS at night after the main events of _The God Complex _ and Rory comes to his aid by introducing him to a communication app that allows them to converse even without speech.  The Doctor's decision to provide Amy and Rory with a house and a life of their own is also explained</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speechless

_"Silence speaks when words can't." ___  
_~Source Unknown ___

_No, no, no, no, no! ___  
This couldn't be happening, not now, not in this body, not after having lived a whole life free of these episodes. Then again, he himself had said it, _new mouth, new rules, _ __ __he just didn't think that would apply to using it to form words. He groaned in frustration, slamming his head into the back of his hand, which was resting against the TARDIS wall, with enough force to elicit a yelp of pain.__

__

_Wonderful, ___he thought bitterly, _I can't speak, but I can make useless noises. ___

As it would happen, those 'useless sounds' drew the attention of one of his companions, the Roman, who had been wandering the halls looking for the kitchen.

“Doctor?" he asked uncertainly, turning into the room that the TARDIS had helpfully placed in his path, “Are you alright?"

The Doctor spun around to face his companion, the ritualistic movement provoking a smile of greeting, which would have been fine, had it not been accompanied by an unsuccessful, yet obvious, attempt to speak a greeting. His mouth floundered about, unable to produce the necessary syllables to form the three short words associated with this companion, but at the same time unprepared to close without forming words.

Unfortunately, the Roman wasn't exactly slow when it came to recognizing a medical emergency, and this episode, harmless though it may have been, looked enough like a medical crisis to spur him into action.

“Alright," he murmured, stepping to the Doctor's side and catching him by the arm and shoulder in a way that allowed him to steer the alien onto a waiting bench, “sit down and take deep breaths." The Doctor's repository bypass had already kicked in, rendering the requested breaths temporarily unnecessary, but the lack of visible breathing alarmed his companion even further. The man's medical training became apparent, though, in the way he visibly calmed himself; “Doctor, I need you to breath. Can you do that for me?" he asked, his voice maintaining a remarkably calm and even tone throughout, one that was at odds with the information conveyed by the racing pulse in his neck. 

The Doctor was still working on forcing his jaw to stay shut, an effort that was undermined by his woefully inadequate motor planning capabilities, and much as he wanted to appease the obviously terrified Roman in front of him it was simply impossible to focus on both at the same time. Even a human as inexperienced as this one was in the area of alien biology had to be observant enough to realize that his lack of breathing wasn't having a negative impact on his health, it was just a matter of time before the realization hit his companion that he didn't need to breathe at that moment, and from there it would be a very short leap to the idea that the “symptoms" that he was experiencing didn't actually warrant any real concern; he just had to wait until the Roman put those things together. 

Finally the information began to click into place “Okay, do you even need to breathe or have I just been wasting my time here?" his companion asked, concern still lacing his voice, but confusion also beginning to bleed through. He shook his head, biting his tongue in the process and giving another yelp of pain. Well, that set the Roman right off again, of course. “Doctor, what just happened and why aren't you talking to me?" Anger - no, that was wrong - exasperation started to tinge his voice as it occurred to him that not only was the Doctor not in dire need of medical assistance to keep breathing, but that something was most definitely wrong and the Doctor wasn't telling him what it was.

_This is just great, how do I tell him what's going on? This isn't supposed to happen anymore, I don't know what to do! ___

“Doctor?" The Roman's tone held both exasperation and gentleness, simultaneously, as he knelt down to look at the Doctor's face, “do you want me to fetch Amy so you can talk to her?"

_No, no, no! ___Amy couldn't see him like this, it was bad enough that the Roman was here, witnessing this moment of vulnerability, his precious Amelia Pond wasn't going to have her faith in him further ruined by this.

He shook his head more rapidly than the last time, clenching his teeth to avoid biting his tongue again. The Roman signed, confusion written plainly across his face, and he rocked back on his heels, tilting his head back to gaze imploringly at the ceiling above him, before rocking back forward into the balls of his feet and placing his hands on the Doctor's knees. “I need you to give me something, Doctor" he demanded, without malice or anger, “or else I'll have to get Amy, because I don't know what else to do for you." 

The Roman's ultimatum motivated him to search for some way of communicating what was going on with him, even if it meant revealing that he hadn't been entirely honest about the extent of the differences between him and his companions. After a moment of consideration the solution hit him, and he lunged forward, clamping his fingertips to the Roman's temples. All at once he felt his consciousness rushing forward, filling his companion's mind with information about what was happening. It took less than half a minute for the information to become too overwhelming for the Roman, causing him to yank back out of the Doctor's grip, forcing the telepathic connection to shut down. 

For a moment he just blinked, shaking his head back and forth slightly, trying to make sense of the information that had just been forced upon him. 

“Okay" he said when he finally stilled his head, stretching out the word with confusion, “so, you're telling me you _can't ___talk, at all?" He looked to the Doctor for confirmation, and was given it in the form of a slightly dejected nod, and a steadfast refusal on the part of the time lord to meet his gaze for even a moment. “Alright, I can work with that, I still need to know what triggered this, but I think I might know a way for you to tell me without doing the whole telepathy thing." He flicked his gaze to the Doctor, finding him starting forward in rapt attention, fingers gripping the edge of the bench, as if you prevent himself from falling off it. He fumbled about in the pocket of the hooded jacket he had worn to bed, finally feeling his fingers grasp the hard plastic rectangle he was searching for and pulling it out. He unlocked the phone, searched through the apps, and selected one with a speaker icon, changing a few of the settings to make it work better for the Doctor, before handing it over to the time lord.

“Just tap the empty space to type, or tap one of the words or phrases that's already saved on it" he explained patiently as the Doctor's fingers flew across the screen, searching all the features of the app, learning how to use it faster than his companion could explain it. Before the Roman had a chance to tell him how to make the device read the words he had selected it emitted the sound of a chirping bird, one meant to catch the attention of a conversation partner, and began speaking in a mildly artificial sounding male voice.

“Rory the Roman!" exclaimed the device in the Doctor's grip, “how did you find this?"

Rory grinned, breathing a sigh of relief as he received auditory confirmation that the Doctor was, indeed, just fine. Of course, he would have preferred for the Doctor to have told him immediately what had made him lose his speech, but he supposed that was a bit much to ask for after handing the alien a new piece of technology to play with. 

“I downloaded it for one of my patients," he explained, “she's Autistic, and she can't speak when she's hurt."

The Doctor's head tilted to the side, a frown spreading across his face as he asked, through the device, “Is she injured often?"

Rory nodded, resigning himself to having to satisfy the time lord's curiosity before getting any relevant medical information from him. 

“Yeah, she gets hurt a lot. She tends to end up in the emergency room at least once a month, if not more than that." He watched the Doctor carefully as he explained the little girl's situation, not wanting to give him the idea that they needed to rush off and save her from anyone, “She has ehlers danlos hypermobility syndrome, she dislocates bones all the time, and she can't speak or interact much until we get the bones back in their sockets." 

The Doctor's expression was that of someone who has just put together a puzzle they'd been working on all week, and his fingers danced rapidly across the screen, spelling out the reason for his sudden understanding.

“You're worried that I've hurt myself somehow" said the device's voice, sounding slightly different, as if the Doctor had adjusted the speed and pitch to sound a bit more like his own, “I haven't, well, not badly enough to knock out my speech, at least." he amended, glancing at his bruised fingers. “I'm not sick either" he added, seeing Rory open his mouth to ask about that, “I'm just not able to talk right now." It was clear that he didn't want to discuss it beyond that, so Rory nodded, respecting his wishes. 

“Alright, well, is there anything I can do to help you get speech back?" Rory asked, not quite sure what he was supposed to do in this situation, but wanting to help in any way he could. He assumed that it was uncomfortable for a man with as much information in his head as the Doctor to be unable to convey that information through speech, even with an alternative communication method available.

“No, if I go to sleep now I should be able to talk when I wake up," he explained, alternating between typing and choosing pre-saved words, phrases, and punctuation to convey his point “nothing you do will reestablish the connections I need for speech."

“In that case I'll see you in the morning," Rory declared, reaching out to accept his phone back, “but if you need anything remember that you can always come get me. I'm a nurse, I'm not about to judge you for waking me up because you need help." He raised his eyebrows slightly, looking to the Doctor for confirmation that his words has been understood, but knowing from the sad smile he got in return that they wouldn't be heeded, regardless of how true they were. “Right then, goodnight," he uttered, exiting the room and heading back down the hall towards Amy's and his room.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Rory woke with a jolt to the sound of screaming, turning to Amy to make sure she was alright, and finding her sound asleep beside him. He frowned, wondering how she could sleep through the sound of those screams, and hesitating in the process of reaching over to wake her because of that anomaly. The TARDIS, sensing his confusion, projected an image into his mind, something she had done a few times before when he got lost within her halls, showing that she was creating a sound corridor that began in a room down her corridors, the Doctor's room, and ended at Rory's side of the bed. There was no danger to his precious wife, that much was clear from the feelings of safety the TARDIS projected, so it wasn't necessary to wake her. It was, however, necessary to wake the Doctor, who seemed to be having a nightmare, judging by the screams.

Rory wasted no time in scrambling out of bed, only slowing down slightly to avoid jostling Amy awake. After he successfully maneuvered his way out of the darkened room and made it through the door without letting any light from the hallway illuminate Amy's sleeping form he set off down the hallway, following the mental map provided by the TARDIS, along with the Doctor's intermittent cries, towards the Doctor's room.

He came to the door earlier than he expected to, the TARDIS having grown impatient with waiting for him to find her thief on his own and moved the rooms around just enough to significantly shorten his trip. He hesitated, wondering if he should try to knock first, before dismissing the idea as ridiculous under the circumstances and pushing the door open.

The sight that greeted him within the room was one that he associated with the psychiatric wing of the hospital, not the inside of the space/time machine that had become his home these past years. The Doctor was tangled amidst two very thin sheets, sweat having drenched them enough that they clung to his skin, and he was shaking all over, pained and terrified cries exiting his mouth, the kind one makes when they fear for their life, or that of their closest friend. His hands were gesticulating wildly, add if he was pleading with some unseen entity, and his motions were growing more frantic by the second. All of a sudden he froze, before letting loose a wail of despair, arms falling down beside him on the bed, tears streaming down his sleeping face, and all the fight appeared to have drained out of his body in an instant, leaving him broken, hardly capable of holding himself together enough to even breathe.

That was enough, Rory decided, shaking aside his shock at having seen the Time Lord display such intense vulnerability for the second time that night. He strode quickly to the bed, bent over the Doctor's shattered form, and, placing his hands on the man's shoulders, gently called his name.

“Doctor," Rory asked, “Doctor, can you hear me?" 

His voice, ever gentle, combined with the firm pressure of his hands on the Doctor's shoulders, yanked the alien from his nightmare and sent him careening into a fully conscious state. The Doctor's eyes flew open, tears still lingering in them, along with such a deep and abiding sorrow that Rory found himself looking away, unable to meet that tragic gaze. Then, with all the unexpectedness of a ray of sunlight breaking through a storm, the Doctor laughed brightly, with shock, amazement, and something nearing ecstasy. The man's lanky frame was wrapped around Rory in an instant, arms crushing him in a desperate hug, before pulling quickly back to stare at the young nurse in absolute joy and awe. His next words, so tragic in their simplicity, made it immensely clear what his dream had been about:  
“You're alive."

Rory's eyes closed involuntarily, understanding washing over him as the Doctor's proclamation sunk in, and sorrow following in understanding's wake, as he wondered how many times the man in front of him could go through this nightmare and still hold hope of waking up from it.  
“Yeah," he forced out, making his voice stay as calm and even as possible, “I'm alive, and so is Amy. Everyone's safe, Doctor."

“I thought you had died, I thought I had lost you both” the Doctor recalled, his voice somehow both relieved and defeated at the exact same time, “I was standing over your graves, they showed me your _graves ___.” His voice broke on the last word and his eyes searched out Rory’s, begging him to understand.

Rory nodded, forcing himself not to look away again, knowing that, for the Doctor, the day was fast approaching when he won’t be able to look into a companion’s eyes and let them reassure him that everything is alright.  
“Doctor, you know you’re going to lose us eventually, I can’t lie to you and say that you won’t,” Rory warned the desperate alien in front of him, “but, if you let me, I can help you. Just tell me what you need and I’ll help you.” 

For a moment it appeared that the Time Lord might actually let his guard down enough to ask for help, but that moment passed in a matter of seconds, and he shook his head with a false-sounding laugh.  
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine!” he exclaimed with false gaiety, “I’m sorry for waking you, although I assume the TARDIS had something to do with that - I don’t remember our rooms being close enough together for you to hear me. Just go back to bed, I’ll get cleaned up and the TARDIS will straighten up my bed, then I’ll see you in the morning.”

Rory wanted to object, but knew it wouldn’t do any good, so he just sighed and nodded.  
“Alright, I’ll see you in the morning,” he conceded, “but call me if you change your mind.”

The Doctor flashed him two thumbs up and a grin as he left, strolling back down the hall to his and Amy’s room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as Rory is gone the Doctor collapses back onto his bed, wide eyes fixed on the ceiling, not wanting to see the images that flicker across his eyelids when he closes his eyes, not wanting to see Amy and Rory’s bodies among those images. He needs to do something soon if he doesn’t want to see those scenes from his nightmares actually played out.

Even if it means letting them go, he can’t let these two die.


End file.
